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funeral poem

fala não bem
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
glass-blower do tempo
diz de épocas velhas boas
como nivelar cai
através do peito aching da terra larga
como eu me encontro telhado dentro, selecionado dentro
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
qual eu desejo observar
veja, eles retornam

 



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